Magpie
by KoreNestis
Summary: Based upon a Tumblr prompt initially, now it's a series of drabbles featuring Cole and my Inquisitor Lavellan. Colequisitor. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

_Another one! _Cole spotted the glimmer _just _out of his peripherals. He felt it more than saw it, in truth. Getting around Skyhold had become more difficult after becoming more human; he could teleport still, but at much shorter distances. He could not sustain an insubstantial form for long. It could be immensely frustrating at times, having to learn to adapt to the world rather than it adapt to him, but he was getting better. _I make them happy when I try, _he thought as he found a good foothold in the stone. He started climbing, ignoring odd stare or two. They would stop soon enough; they were slowly growing accustomed to the strange blond boy and his big hat. The Inquisitor liked and trusted him and was known to snap at those who treated him poorly, so most left him Inquisitor's approval was all he truly wanted, in all honesty. He drowned the other voices out unless they needed his help. He hated that he could not make them forget like he used to be able to, at least not as well, but Varric said that it was better this way. He did not see how, but he trusted the dwarf. He had accepted Cole just as the Inquisitor had, and for that, he was grateful.

He pulled himself over the top of the battlements and picked up the bright speck. He rolled the brilliant amber rock around in his palm, smiling to himself. This was the third he had found; the Inquisitor liked to put them in places he told them he was fond of. This was the very spot he enjoyed to sit that overlooked a good portion of Skyhold. It was atop empty, run down quarters that the builders had neglected to revamp, so he had claimed it for his own, in his own way. From above it, he could see Cullen's office a little ways to the right, and the main hall of Skyhold before him. He could squint and make out Warden Blackwall walking out of the stables.

Cole pocketed the stone with the rest of his findings; the two others, one a bright aquamarine and the second a golden green, two half-finished puzzles, a piece of rough leather, some garish yellow plaid weave, and a fine cloth that reminded him of the softness of flower petals. There had also been a small book with blank pages. _"Blank pages? Where the story?"_ he had asked the Inquisitor, his big blue eyes alive with curiosity.

They had simply smiled at him and replied, _"That's for you to decide."_ He wasn't sure he understood still. Thus far, the book remained empty. But Cole was not empty, far from it. The Inquisitor had been using their magical abilities to hide little gifts for the –well, whatever he was now- and said it was a _scavenger hunt. _Cole still had not seen any vultures, but he continued looking nonetheless. But the fact still stuck that he felt warm, _happy. _He felt full of something he had only sensed in others, and though pleasant, it frightened him a little. No one had ever just _given _him things before.

He had gone to Varric and attempted explaining these strange things that were happening within his more human body. He had stared helplessly at the dwarf, waiting, but all he had gotten were grins and chuckles.

He'd sighed in exasperation. _"Well, at least tell me how I make them happy back." _

Varric had patted him on the shoulder. _"Give them gifts right back, kid," _he'd said, chuckling again. _"Whatever it is, I'm sure they'll like it. It's the thought that counts." _Cole had frowned, but figured it wasn't such a bad idea.

So one day, the Inquisitor went to put one of their boots on and winced as their foot came into contact with something hard, almost falling over as they hopped on one leg. They dumped their boot upside down and a small, hard object came tumbling out onto the floor: a marble. The next day, they opened their desk to check the morning reports, only to find them as the new plate for a gigantic cake, its icing melting down the sides. Later on, as they were researching elfroot and its properties at the apothecary table, they reached into their bag of supplies to pull out a little paper bird. They were utterly bewildered at first, but then laughed in sudden understanding.

Elsewhere, Cole had begun to write in his little blank book. A lot of it was simple observations, random snippets he would pick up from minds he came into contact with. The pages were slowly filling, however. He put his quill down when he sensed the Inquisitor approaching, looking up at them from under the brim of his hat.

The Inquisitor was smiling down at him, holding their palm open. There the marble lay. "Thank you, Cole."

He had never smiled so widely in his short life.


	2. And it talks to me in tiptoes

_And the heart is hard to translate_

_It has a language of its own_

_It talks in tongues and quiet sighs_

_And prayers and proclamations in the grand days_

_Of great men and the smallest of gestures_

_In short shallow gasps_

It was a bright and early morning in Skyhold. All of its residents were milling about their business and cheerfully chatting with one another, their spirits high after the crushing blow the Inquisition had landed against Corypheus. Hearing of their beloved Herald of Andraste walking once again out of the Fade unharmed and tearing the Grey Wardens away from the Elder One at Adamant was momentous, and all hoped against hope that victory would soon be within the Inquisition's grasp.

All were rather happy, except for the pale blond haired boy. In these past couple of months after becoming more human, Cole normally exuded an aura of curious bliss wherever he went, and it tended to improve the moods of those within close proximity to him. Today was not a normal day, evidently: whilst Skyhold's citizens joked and laughed, they gave him a wide berth. Even though they remembered him more now, he tended to slip through most places unnoticed; he was seen as simply another part of the scenery here as he wandered, performing unusual acts like walking around with an armful of chickens, playing with the children and allowing them to wear his large hat, or leaving pies on rooftops. Inquisitor Lavellan trusted him and was often seen with him, so they left him be.

Back and forth, Cole had been pacing the length of the great hall for some time. It was still difficult for him to judge time; perhaps it had been an hour? He paused every once in a while to stare longingly at the door that lead to the Inquisitor's quarters, then seemed to remember his mission and resumed his pacing. Sometimes he would attempt to stop by sitting on the edge of one of the tables that stretched the length of the hall, but he would squirm, his legs swinging restlessly as his bandaged hands played with the worn threads that poked off of his patched, rough sweater. He would rock to and fro, and eventually get back up again.

At long last he stopped dead in his tracks, staring out the open doorway. _Finally. _He swiftly walked out and down the staircase. The little man that he had been waiting so impatiently for was still yawning and rubbing at his eyes, so he ran right into the young human who had halted in front of him as he was just starting his ascent. Varric leapt in surprise and looked up. He smiled sleepily. "Hey Ki-"

"Varric, I need to hit things," Cole stated curtly, gazing down at him with a stony expression.

The dwarf's mouth fell open. "Could I at least eat some breakfast first?" he complained. When Cole did not move or respond, he sighed. "Alright, come with me."

He led the boy to his small, cramped room in the inn, where he picked Bianca up from where it leaned against the little table next to his bed. He slung the quiver of bolts over his shoulder, and walked out. "What's eating ya, Kid?" he asked as they left the inn, heading towards the training area.

"Nothing, I probably wouldn't taste very good," Cole said matter of factly. "I am…angry, and I don't know why."

Varric said nothing until they reached the place designated for target practice, and silently handed the once spirit of compassion his beloved crossbow and a bolt. Cole set the bolt in and pulled the string back, and aimed down the sights at one of the dummies.

"What do you think about that makes you angry?" Varric watched as the boy pulled the trigger. _Thuum. _The bolt soared, fast as a flicker of lightning from the Inquisitor's staff, and zoomed past the head of the dummy directly in front of them. It grazed where a left eye would have been, and he saw some straw fly out of the nick left behind.

Cole lowered Bianca and breathed a frustrated sigh, his nostrils flaring. "Cullen is nice, warm and speaks gently to me. He ignores the song, though it can be loud sometimes, too loud." He stared off into space. Varric wordlessly handed him another bolt, and he set it. "Always working for others, eyes tired but glad to help. I like him, but when he thinks about Ellayria I get _angry._" He shouldered Bianca again, his crystal clear blue eyes glaring at the dummy.

Varric chuckled as the second bolt was let loose. It stabbed through the dummy's torso. "He's gonna think about her, Kid. She's his boss."

Cole shook his head earnestly and held his hand out for another bolt. As he accepted it, he muttered, "Not like this. Josephine and Leliana do not think of her like this. His face hot, cannot seem to get the words out, he stumbles on simple greetings." The boy sighed angrily once more and set the crossbow. _Thuum. _"He longs, though knows he isn't worthy. I am broken, she doesn't deserve me, but still, he wonders. What her cheek would feel like if he stroked it, or how she would feel in his arms."

The dwarf's eyebrows raised in surprise, and noticed how hard Cole was gripping the base of the weapon. The taller male glared down at him, scowling, his eyes sky colored fires of fury. "He wishes to taste her lips, and other things. He wants to wake up to her, snuggled under covers. Safe and solid, protecting and proud. He loves her. _And I want to slit his throat."_

He said it with such quiet malice that Varric hastily reached out for Cole's arm, who recoiled as though he were about to be struck. "Cole," he responded calmly, gazing up at him. "What you're feeling is _jealousy. _It's a very natural thing, a very _human _thing." He watched as the young man he had come to care very dearly for slump helplessly to the ground, gingerly laying Bianca next to him. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his slender arms around them, hiding his face in between his thighs and his hat. The shorter man tried to touch him again, which Cole allowed; Varric rubbed his back soothingly. He could feel the boy shaking; from rage or from sadness, he wasn't sure. "It's not Cullen's fault if he's fallen in love. You can't help things like that. Believe me, I know."

Cole spoke so softly that Varric had to get closer to hear, so he wrapped his arm around his fellow rogue's broad shoulders. "I am afraid," he whispered. "He will take her. He knows the world, he knows how to love her. She respects him, and cares about him. She could fall in love with him back." He lifted his head and stared up at the dwarf. Varric recognized that agonized expression. _Heartbreak. _"I want it to be me. Not him. I don't want to kill him, not really, but when I hear those things…" He turned towards the dummy, with the crossbow bolt embedded deep in its chest. "It hurts."

Varric nodded. "I understand. I know Ellayria means a lot to you, and you to her. But I don't think she knows just how far it goes. If you want her, you need to _take action, Kid. Show _her how you feel." Cole's brows knitted together in confusion. "You gotta tell her, sweep her off her feet, all that romantic crap."

"Like your book that Cassandra likes so much?" Cole questioned, his head tilting to the side.

The squat man couldn't help but laugh. "I would recommend not using _that _as a reference, but yeah, somethin' like that. Give her things that she likes, spend time with her, make her happy. Then, you make your move." He could tell the kid had no idea what he was talking about. "_You know, _kiss her or something."

Cole smiled slightly, shyly. He looked down at the ground and played with a shiny pebble near his shoe. "Do you think she would like it? If I kissed her?"

"I definitely think she would," Varric encouraged, grinning at the boy. "But you don't know until you _try, _remember that. The mind reading thing that you do is damned useful, you know. Do little things like hold her hand, hug her, and gauge how it makes her feel. You might be pleasantly surprised."

Cole surprised _him _with a sudden embrace. "Thank you, Varric," he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude. The dwarf smiled and returned the gesture, looking up at the sky. It sure was a beautiful morning.

_A/N: I was trying to catch a bit of Asunder Cole here, can you tell? Lololol. Lyrics belong to Florence + The Machine._


	3. A Vow

Well, this was not how Ellayria had imagined her day off to begin. Stretching luxuriously and rolling onto her stomach, she allowed an arm to dangle off the bed, her marked hand's fingers fiddling idly with a loose floorboard as she contemplated how to make the most of what precious little time she'd been blessed with.

She was never comfortable with this; there were so many people who needed her. Corypheus did not take the day off, as wondrous as _that _would be. Yet when Inquisitor Lavellan began nodding off and almost knocked out some of her teeth on the war table, her advisors agreed unanimously that their leader deserved a break. The logical arguments she conjured against the idea proved to be of no avail, as usual. Leliana fixed her with a cold stare that was meant to be an attempt to cow her into submission, and it _worked_, though she loathed to admit it. Josephine gave her an apologetic smile and suggested that it would be in the best interest for all, as their fabled Herald of Andraste could hardly get much done were she to pass out in the midst of battling the Elder One.

And Cullen had merely rubbed the back of his neck, glancing uneasily between the two women on either side of him. He tentatively admitted that it might be a good idea. Ellayria fought the urge to roll her eyes; it was obvious he was doing his best to avoid the ambassador and spymaster's ire. She could hardly blame him for it. She'd thrown up her hands in surrender and promised she would tomorrow, which appeased them temporarily.

She had just pulled her body out from her bed's comforting warmth, yawning and giving a satisfied sigh. She was looking forward to today, and could see the point her advisors attempted to make to her. She would rejuvenate, if only for today, and come back to work feeling much better than before.

Ellayria was startled out of her reverie by something moving out of the corner of her eye. She readied a spell in her hand as she looked in the direction of the staircase, but relaxed when she recognized the all too familiar slender figure standing there facing her, half his face hidden beneath his large hat.

"Good morning, Cole!" she chirped, allowing her mana to dissipate. She smiled, happy as always to see the young man.

It quickly turned to a frown, however, when he wobbled slightly. He looked up at her, and she could see him more clearly; he was significantly paler than normal, and appeared feverish.

"Cole?" she called, trying to keep her voice calm. She was anything but, having never witnessed him like this before.

He responded by swaying slightly again, and then leaning forward and vomiting all over the floor.

'_By the Creators,' _was all she thought as she dashed forward, catching him right before he fell into his own sick.

She stood anxiously beside her fellow elven mage as he knelt to the side of her bed, his palm having pushed the young human man's damp blond hair upwards to feel his temperature. He had asked Cole some questions and performed a basic examination; granted, Solas was no doctor, but Ellayria felt that he would know how best to treat Cole, given his…unusual circumstances. After word had reached him, the apostate had come up with a bucket and wordlessly handed it to the sweat soaked boy in the bed, who promptly began breaking it in. He had puked up all of the food that was in his stomach the first time, so all that really came up now was pure bile.

"Make it stop," he begged hoarsely. He clutched at the male elf's sweater. "Please, I'm dying. I'm scared. What do I do?" Ellayria could tell he was working himself into a panic, and it twisted a knife in her chest. She felt so helpless; all she could do was stand there and wring her hands as a servant cleaned up Cole's previous mess in the background.

"You are going to be _fine,_ Cole," Solas responded with a hint of exasperation, though he patted the boy's arm comfortingly. "There's been a sickness going around some of the lesser folk here. It was not something that your body has been exposed to yet." He turned his head a fraction to level a cool gaze at the Inquisitor behind him. "Though this would not have happened had you taken my advice, lethallan."

Ellayria gritted her teeth. He had taken it as a personal slight that she had agreed with Varric when Cole had led them to the templar that day. He believed Cole a spirit, and considering he was a self-professed expert on spirits, had expected her to take his side. The fact that they were of the same kind most likely added salt to the wound. "Cole needed to grow, to put the past behind him," she said simply. "It was what was best for him." She hoped he would leave it at that.

Naturally, he would not. "Best for him? Or best for _you?_" She felt like he had slapped her, and the guilt that she had kept barely beneath the surface threatened to swallow her. It seemed he could see it, too. He frowned, his expression unreadable. "It appears you have managed to make it no longer possible for him to twist into a demon, at the very least. I will congratulate you on that note. I sincerely hope that he does not despise us for doing this to him, however."

Her hands were clenched into fists and tried to speak as evenly as she could, lest her emotions betray her. "He needed closure with what happened. How could you suggest he _forgive _the man who forgot a small boy in a cell and let him starve to death? It was the right thing to do." Though she said it passionately, every word niggled at her mind as if she were lying. Doubt pumped from her heart and oozed into her limbs, and she felt like she could not breathe.

"And yet you would turn a spirit of compassion from its purpose," he spat back, his hand clenching the top of several blankets on the bed. He kept his voice low for Cole's sake, but he did not need to speak loudly. She could hear the venom behind all of it, his expression icy.

"Stop." They both looked to the source of the whisper, which sounded like two rocks scraping together. It hurt to hear him so weak from the vomiting as she watched him staring between the two of them. She had not noticed him sit up. She could tell it was a struggle. His long blond locks were plastered to his face and neck. "You're hurting her."

Solas shook his head at the young man. "Worry about yourself for the time being, Cole. Focus on resting." Though Ellayria wanted to electrocute her 'fellow' elf, she grudgingly concurred with him in this regard.

"Yes, Cole, your _human body _needs some time to restore its energy," she said, smiling sweetly. She felt two eyes boring holes into her, though she pretended not to see. She gestured to her nightstand in front of Solas. "There's some food in the basket there, take it slow and only eat a little. But _do _eat something, your _human body _needs it. There's some water right next to the basket; be careful when moving it so that it does not spill." She finally graced the apostate with a grin.

His nostrils were flared indignantly. "Cole is a spirit, he _is not_-"

"Achoo!" Cole had been facing the other man to listen to him talk; therefore, that is the direction he sneezed. "Sorry," he said, wiping at his nose with his sleeve.

For a moment, Solas simply knelt there next to the bed. Then let out a slow, exasperated sigh, and withdrew a handkerchief from a pocket in his robes to remove the fluid on his face with as much dignity as he could muster. He stood. "I trust you have this under control, then. You made your decision, here are its responsibilities." He strode towards the staircase without another glance at the two of them.

It was silent for a time, as Ellayria stared at the staircase, lost in her thoughts. She could almost feel Cole fidgeting on the bed, waiting for her to say something. It seemed her could only take the quiet for so long. "Why was Solas being so cruel?" he asked. She looked back to see his mouth slightly open and his light brows knitted together in a frown. His normally vivid sky blue eyes were darkened and dulled somewhat from his illness. "I can barely hear, so I don't understand."

Her lips pressed together in a thin line. "Our dear friend _loathes _to be wrong. He'll have to accept it sooner or later. I just hope I'm there to see it." She grinned and walked around the bed to plop in beside him, lifting the multitude of blankets up to snuggle underneath them. "What do you mean, 'you can't hear?'"

She noticed he was shivering; he began rubbing his arms to generate heat. "It's quiet. Quiet like the grave. I think I'm too sick."

Ellayria thought she knew what he meant. "You can't read thoughts right now?" He nodded. She moved closer and pressed herself against him. "Come on, lay down with me."

He stared down at her in alarm. "N-No, what if your body starts puking too?"

She laughed. "I'll be fine, don't worry about me. I'm assuming my immune system is probably a bit stronger than yours. I have lived under an open sky all of my life."

He seemed to consider it a moment, then gradually sank back down under the covers. Once he felt her warmth, he eagerly wrapped his arms around her, burying his face into the crook of her neck. By the Creators, he was burning up. She stroked his wet hair as his breathing evened out, though it still sounded harsh and exhausted. She allowed her eyelids to drift shut as well, feeling oddly at peace.

The rest of the day went lazily by. She awoke a couple of times to Cole jerking up and reaching desperately for the bucket nearby, flinching as she listened to him dry heaving miserably into it. Each time afterwards, she would gently encourage him to nibble at the bread in the basket and drink some water. He obeyed, though she could tell all he wanted to do was pass back out again. Some visitors came and went: Varric brought up some vegetable soup and chatted amiably with her while Cole wolfed it down. He threw it back up a little while later, though it seemed as though it was occurring less frequently. The Iron Bull half dragged a grumpy Dalish up to offer Cole some concoction that was supposed to help ease his stomach, though she bitterly insisted that a mage would mix a much better potion. Bull casually told her that Solas had started hurling down below as well, and it took all of her willpower not to smile smugly. Not human indeed.

When Cole was awake, he would lay his head on her shoulder and she would read to him; sometimes they would take turns. Though he struggled with more complex vocabulary, he learned at a shockingly quick pace, which made her beam with pride. She tried to brighten his mood by talking about her clan; he listened quietly as she spoke of her mother and her sisters, and wondered how they were doing since the mage-templar war had erupted.

He quietly chuckled against her neck; she tried not to shiver at his hot breath. "You always worry about everyone." He laid his hand over top of one of hers. He suddenly got serious. "I'm sorry I got sick, I should have been more careful." He lifted his head to look into her eyes. Even weak and sweat soaked, his gaze was tender, full of swirling emotion. "Thank you. You did not have to help me as much as you have."

She smiled, and leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on his forehead. "You help me all the time, it's the least I could do." Her free hand cradled his thin face, rubbing his pale cheek with her thumb. "I will always be here for you."

Cole seemed to marvel at the idea, and she could empathize why. The last person who had been so close to him before had deserted him. But she saw that he believed her, though it frightened him to do so. He closed his eyes and gave a slow exhale, and he had never appeared so serene. He opened them again. "Always?" He could not withstand being left again, she knew. He pleaded with her through his gaze. "I don't want to be alone and forgotten."

"Always, I swear it." She removed the hand from his face to place it over his heart, to try and convey to him that she meant it with all of her being.


End file.
